


Least Expected

by msruchita



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 02:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17092433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msruchita/pseuds/msruchita
Summary: Dean has to go to the one place he least expects





	Least Expected

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a drabble and it ended up longer than I expected. Not sure if this is called a one-shot or can be considered a drabble. Also, it’s my first Dean fic so all and any feedback is appreciate. Don’t be afraid to be brutal. I love to learn from my mistakes. Hope you guys enjoy this!

‘You want me to what?’

Dean stared incredulously at Sam, almost sure he heard wrong. ‘Go to the library and do the research. I just cant…’

He flopped on the bed, fast asleep within seconds. His eyes softened staring at his little brother, knowing he had pushed himself beyond the limit just so they could stay one step ahead. Sighing in defeat, he grabbed his jacket and headed out, before softly whispering, ‘Only for you Sammy.’

The crisp chill of 4am hung in the air as he walked briskly to the university library, figuring the 20 minute walk would do him good. Silently blessing Sam for thinking of everything when he found a student card in his jacket pocket, he tapped it against the scanner, pushing open the heavy door.

The library was quiet, except for the small snores of students who had fallen asleep working on their assignments. Chuckling, able to perfectly imagine Sam as a student, waking up disoriented, but still achieving straight A’s, he headed up towards the archive section, on the top floor.

Eight floors later, he doubled over, hands on his knees as he wheezed slightly, before entering the room only to gape around awestruck. Fashioned that it represented more of an old bookstore than a library floor, there were books not just shelved neatly, but books everywhere, piled in odd corners, on the tables, with a few blankets draped over chintz armchairs.

Taking out the list provided, he went down the shelves searching for the book. Shifting through the piles of books, he suddenly tripped over a small form, yelping slightly when it sneezed.

A pompom ball emerged and then he was staring at a girl looking sleepily at him, as she adjusted her pompom beanie. Her eyes were bloodshot like she hadn’t had a good sleep in ages, when she  gestured at him.

‘Were you looking for something? Never seen you before.’

Thinking fast of a plausible excuse knowing he didn’t look like a student, after all he was 32, she dismissed her own question, eyes zeroing on the list.

‘Mávet, Taoon, Socair: An Anthology. Why do you want this?’

Dean gawked at her, the pronunciation accurate as he debated what to tell her. Bloodshot and dull, her eyes held a unique mix of honesty and intelligence, glittering in the cloudy depths.

‘My brother and I, we’re looking for the author. Was hoping we could speak to her; there are certain clarifications we wanted to discuss.’

She held his gaze a moment longer than usual, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek, exposing a long scar, his hand twitching to stroke the the raised flesh. Closing her eyes, she suddenly went still, as he looked around awkwardly, when she suddenly jerked, her eyes snapping open.

‘Sorry, what was I saying? Umm, yeah, the anthology. Looking for the writer. Uhh, hi, it’s me.’

She dozed off again as he stared at her, wondering how much to believe, and then followed by a sudden wave of anger and worry. How could someone run themselves so exhausted that they fell asleep mid-sentence?

‘Haven’t slept in weeks. Is it weeks, maybe longer. Had to finish-’

Swaying slightly, she suddenly dropped to the side. Realising he must have voiced it out aloud, he shifted without thinking, catching her before her head hit the floor, before pulling her onto his lap. Unable to stop himself from stroking her cheek, she nuzzled into him, her body warm and pliant against his.

’10 minutes. Okay? Give me 10 minutes.’

She mumbled something after and then grew quiet, as he looked down at her. Sam had given a brief background about her; that as a writer she was brilliant, and as a hunter; even more so. Yet, as she slept in his arms, he had the strangest urge to protect her, not wanting her to face anymore demons.

‘Take as long as you like sweetheart. I’m not leaving.’


End file.
